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Wednesday, 5 October 2011

My four-year-old, Jamie, gets very metaphysical around bedtime. After we talked to him about the eternal destiny of the dog and the universe, he launched into an extended monologue on the meaning of death. Recorded verbatim here:

Mum, when we're dead God won't be dead. Because God always be's alive, he never be's dead. When you're dead and I'm dead we'll go somewhere – to heaven. And we'll see God real. And we'll talk to God and we'll see God, real. [Nodding wisely.] I'm glad to hear that. But I'm not glad to hear we're dead. Everybody in the world isn't glad to be dead.

When I'm dead everybody else will be dead. Not baddies – baddies don't be dead.

All the good people in the world will be in heaven with God. And even bad people? God loves bad things because he turns them into good things.